


At the end, a prize

by GlyphArchive



Category: Baahubali (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Banter, Comfort, F/F, Fix-It of Sorts, Minor Injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:55:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21821782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlyphArchive/pseuds/GlyphArchive
Summary: With the long trek to Shiva's temple and the fire sacrifice being made, the Queen of Mahishmati rests in relative peace. It is far sweeter with the one she loves at her side.
Relationships: Sivagami (Baahubali)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 10
Collections: Margazhi in Mahishmati 2019





	At the end, a prize

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AllegoriesInMediasRes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllegoriesInMediasRes/gifts).



“It would not have been possible to get this far, if not for you at my side.” Mekhala admits, nearly rushing over her words to get them out before fatigue can sap any more of her energy and sense. Sivagami halts, dressings for the wounds on Mekhala’s feet briefly trembling in her hands.

“I know not what you mean.” Sivagami collects herself, focusing on the sores that will need treating before they can become infected rather than Mekhala’s weary face. It is easier to do so, as she plucks up the no-nonsense tone Sivagami knows Mekhala draws strength from in times of need. “You brought yourself here upon your own merits, paved your way with your own skill. Lesser individuals might see it as guile alone, but that has never stopped you from caring for this kingdom and its people.”

Mekhala let out a quiet sound, one that grows into a quiet laugh which makes Sivagami look up at last. She is _smiling_ , her Mekhala; tired still and too pale for Sivagami’s liking, but otherwise healthy and whole. Everything Sivagami had feared might be lost those years ago, when it had been uncertain whether Mekhala could survive giving birth to her son.

Her love reaches out with a hand, palm up in a silent request for Sivagami’s own. She shouldn’t accept it, Sivagami knows; because her own hands are still clean enough to tend Mekhala’s feet and not risk contamination. If she takes Mekhala’s hand she will need to wash her hands again, making the treatment last longer than it should. And yet a less fastidious part of Sivagami’s heart plucks at such a thought, wondering if taking more time would really be such a terrible thing after all.

Sivagami lays her hand in Mekhala’s worn palm at last and feels her mouth quirk when Mekhala’s longer fingers curl around her own.

“You continue to brush aside your own importance.” A twinkle reveals itself in Mekhala’s eyes, her smile widening. It is easy to see where Amarendra gets his charm from when Mekhala lets herself be a woman in love rather than the Queen Mother of Mahishmati. Sivagami nearly pities the one who will be faced with such a look in Amarendra’s future, for how it makes Sivagami’s own reservations go quiet and settle when coming from Mekhala herself.

“I do not.” Sivagami chides, moving to sit upon the bed so that she will no longer have to stoop. It is easier upon her back, and sensible when holding a conversation. It has nothing at all to do with how she may be closer to Mekhala; or how she can now cradle her love’s hand between both of her own. “I merely provided advice and political suggestions. It was you who faced the court and reminded them where their duty laid.”

“All with my babe at my breast and you with Kattappa at my side.” Mekhala points out with a fond chuckle. “You may downplay it, my dear; but I remember. It would not have gone near so well if you had not been there. My knees fair shook when I stood before the throne. You steadied them, and gave me courage to stand tall.”

Sivagami allowed her mouth to briefly twitch, drawing back so that she could stand and wash her hands once more. It needed done, after all. Basking in the pleasure of Mekhala’s company could be done later.

“Perhaps.” She ventured at last, applying the last of the dressings with care. “But you did it. And you have learned to be Queen on your own. It pleases me to see you tap into your own strength at last.” Sivagami added, glancing up at Mekhala’s face from beneath her lashes.

“I could walk another forty miles with an urn of fire upon my head, if you prefer.” Mekhala offered, her tone gently teasing. “It would not be so great a thing, after doing it the once. I would dare more if it earned me a smile from you.”

Sivagami pressed her mouth into a line, pushing back the urge to laugh that Mekhala attempted to rouse with her words.

“Not on those feet.” She chided again, glancing pointedly at the fresh bandages. “Rest, and then perhaps we shall see if your wit can do as you claim; though we both know the outcome.” Despite herself a faint smile eased across her lips, warmer than any she might have once directed at another.

“That is half the fun.” Mekhala countered, her voice softening as her fight to remain conscious neared its end. “The knowing and the journey to make it so.”


End file.
